Healing a Heart
by GraceMacLean
Summary: After Kate's death, Neal tries to cope on his own. When Peter's neice comes to stay, Neal finds a friend and maybe something more. Will he be able to heal his heart and move on or will he close off his feelings so he won't be hurt again?
1. Chapter 1: Meeting

_I do not own White Collar or any of the charectors._

_**Chapter One**_

Neal walked smoothly across the cold New York sidewalk after Peter. His trench coat whipped around his legs and his hair ruffled as a strong wind blew down the crowded street. Peter opened the door ahead of him and Neal stepped inside the mud room of Peter's house, removing his long coat and smoothing his hair. He heard voices and laughter coming from inside the toasty apartment and briefly wondered who was with Elizabeth.

Neal walked into the cozy house after Peter. His mind was focused on the case he and Peter were working on, a dirty politician laundering money for the mob. He was pulled back to reality when he heard someone say his name.

"I that Neal?" asked a female voice, one Neal didn't recognize. He pulled his head down from the clouds and looked around. The person who had asked was sitting next to Peter's wife, Elizabeth, at he dining room table. She was young and pretty with the same color hair as El. In fact, she looked a lot like Elizabeth. She was smiling in his direction so Neal flashed her a charming conman smile.

"Yup That's the infamous Neal Caffrey," said Elizabeth, sipping from a teacup. Peter leaned over and kissed his wife's forehead. Neal held out his hand for the young girl.

"I guess I have a fan club now," he said, winking. The girl took his hand and smiled back showing a set of impossibly white teeth hidden behind pink glossy lips.

"Neal, this is my niece, Abigail. She's staying with me and El until she finds a new apartment. She goes to school here in the city."

"Please call me Abby," she said letting go of Neal's hand, and turning to El, "You were right Aunt El, he is delicious."

Neal chuckled while Peter looked scandalously at his wife.

"You said Neal was 'delicious'?" he asked bewildered, but not angry.

"In not so many words," said El smiling and pulling Peter down to give him a kiss. Neal loved how Peter and Elle were so perfect together, how they trusted each other so much. He flashed back to a similar scene with him and Kate, though they had never been as close as Peter and Elle, he thought of Kate as his true love. A twinge of pain shot through him but he quickly brushed it away.

"So, where are you going to school?" he asked taking a seat next to Abby and removing his hat.

"FIT" she said, "I plan to be a clothing designer."

Neal quickly thought of his own wardrobe; three piece suits, Italian leather shoes, and immediately struck up conversation about the dreadful state of today's current fashion. He was so absorbed in the discussion that he was startled when Peter tapped his shoulder and told him they needed to get him back within the two mile radius he was allowed to live in. He thanked Elizabeth for her hospitality and turned to Abby. Swiftly and in his usual suave way he lifted her hand, placing a kiss on her fingers.

"It was lovely meeting you," he said, still holding her hands and looking into her eyes.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she replied with an impressed look on her face. She gently lifted her hands from Neal's grasp, "It was nice to finally meet you, too, Mr. Caffrey."

Neal walked to the door that Peter was holding open and with a quick glance back over his shoulder he grabbed his coat and walked back out into the frigid November air.

* * *

**I need help deciding what should happen next!**

**Should Neal and Abby's relationship be**

**A) a friendship that helps Neal deal with his grief over Kate's death**

**or**

**B) a romance that shows Neal he can move on after Kate's death.**

**You can put your answer in a review.  
****Thank you very very much!**

**Please review**


	2. Chapter 2: Remembering

**Chapter Two: Remembering**

Neal sat in his apartment with an open case file in his hands. There were other similar files open the table in front of him along with a seemingly random assortment of pictures, phone conversations, and FBI papers. Words like 'project Mentor' and 'music box' were scribbled into the margins in Neal's perfect penmanship, always followed by question marks or unfinished thoughts. Neal pushed a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes and sighed, feeling the now familiar sense of sadness creep up his throat, making his eyes water and his jaws clench. He pushed the feeling away and replaced it with anger, throwing the file to the floor and gripping his forehead in frustration that he could not find the man responsible for Kate's death.

Three months. It had been three months since Kate was killed. Three months since he watched the woman he loved murdered by a bomb that was meant for him. He was sure that was the case. Why would anyone want Kate dead? He, Neal, was the criminal, not her. He let a tear slip down his cheek as her pleaded with God. He had never been religious, but he had lost faith in himself and needed something to be comforted by. He prayed silently that he could have Kate back, hold her again, kiss her. He frequently wished that he had been the one to die and that she could have lived.

He was forced out of prayer by a sharp knock. He stood up and walked over door, wiping his face and ruffling his hair.

"Hey Peter. Miss me already?" said Neal to his partner, with no sign in his voice that anything was wrong. Peter stood in the doorway snow covering his jacket and hair. He smiled sarcastically at Neal.

"Trust me I didn't want to come. El and Abby and I are going to dinner. I just needed to give this to you." he handed Neal FBI classified folder, "It's the judge's recent financial transitions. He did a pretty good job of covering his tracks but Hughes wants you to see if you can find something." Neal quickly flipped through the envelope.

"I'm not making any promises. This guys good, but I'll do my best. Have fun at dinner."

Peter waved goodbye as Neal shut the door and walked over to place the folder on top of the messy pile on his table. He flipped it open, but shut it after a few moments. There would be time for it tomorrow.

Neal walked out onto the balcony in time to see Peter get into his car. He could see two other figures in the car; Elizabeth and Abby. From the back and in the dim light, Abby looked like Kate, with the same long, dark hair. For some reason this made him sadder. He felt like he was being teased by this, a faint image of lost love. The car drove off down the snow ladder road and Neal was left alone and cold.

He'd forgotten to bring a jacket so by the time Neal got back inside his hands were shaking and his lips had turned blue. He poured himself a glass of deep red wine to warm up. He sat on his sofa in silence, listening to the wind whipping the snow about outside. His mind wandered back to the snowy day he and Kate had spent together, walking through Central Park, sipping coffee in a warm and inviting café, holding each other late at night after passionate love-making. He let himself live that day again in his mind as the snow fell deep and quiet outside.


	3. Chapter 3: Beginning

_Thank you everyone for reading!_

_It's been a lot of fun to write and they'll be more to come soon._

_Oh and to answer a question, I'm guessing Neal's in his late twenties and Abigail is in her early twenties. So there is a bit of an age difference but, hey, it's fiction, right?_

_Please review with any comments. Thanks again! Enjoy!_

**Chapter Three: Beginning**

Thanksgiving had passed. A cold chill thickened the air and the snow fell deeper and deeper until it seemed the whole city would be swallowed up in it. Neal spent the holiday with Peter and El. He'd talked with Abby for most of the evening. They discussed fashion and art and technology and Neal's "alleged" work. He'd promised her he'd try to attend a show she was having at her college. It was still a week away but he still hadn't asked Peter about it. He needed FBI permission to be outside his two mile radius.

Neal slouched in his bed, a sketchpad on his knees and colored pencils surrounding him. He was drawing Kate, from memory. His eyes closed as his hand traced the outline of her face. He tried so hard to stop thinking about her, to stop dreaming about her, but it was futile. He had taken to studying her case file all night until he passed out early in the morning. He suspected that Peter thought something was wrong, and Mozzie was acting unusual as well, but neither of them could even imagine the pain he was feeling. On the outside he was his charming, self confident self, but on the inside he was dying.

He put the unfinished drawing on the bed beside him and walked to the fridge to get something to eat. He was on his way there when a sharp, repetitive knock made him change direction.

"Neal. Hello. Are you there?" said a feminine voice.

"Kate," Neal whispered. At that moment all he cared about was who was on the other side of the door. He imagined it would be Kate. She'd throw her arms around him and tell him she loved him. He would hug her back and cry and apologize to her. It wouldn't matter that she was supposed to be dead, that she had been in that airplane. His heart raced and he reached for the handle and….

His heart didn't sink as much as he thought it would at the sight of woman on the other side of the door. So maybe it wasn't Kate, but at least it was a friend and not someone coming to take him back to prison.

"Abby, what are you doing here?" Neal said, stepping aside so she could come in. She looked terrible. Her makeup was running so she looked like a zombie. Her hair was plastered down from melted snow and her skin was red with cold. She was shivering.

"I'm sorry," she began, standing awkwardly in the middle of the spotless apartment, "I didn't know where to go…"

"It's ok, you don't have to explain right now," said Neal trying to be as comforting as possible, "Why don't you freshen up. The bathroom's right over here."

Neal went and got a sweater of his and offered it to her when she finished.

"Thank you so much," she said as they walked to the couch looking much better, the color returning to her cheeks. She draped the cashmere sweater over her head and smiled in approval.

"No problem." said Neal taking a seat next to her, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, no," she said curling up in his sweater. She sighed deeply before continuing, "Just stupid boyfriend trouble."

Neal nodded trying to make her feel more comfortable.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Were things serious?"

"Yeah, kinda," she said playing with her hair. Neal watched her for a few moments, noticing that was the same way Kate used to tousle her hair when she was nervous. It seemed Abby and Kate were similar in a lot of ways.

"We'd been going out for a year. He broke up with me tonight. No explanation what so ever; just a 'hey, I don't like you anymore.'"

She smiled slightly and Neal gently touched her leg.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok, he was a jerk, really," she continued her story, "but I was upset so I left the restaurant and just wandered around for bit. Not a good idea, especially since I left my jacket at the table. I kinda freaked out because I didn't know where the hell I was for a while, but I ended up here and…..I thought maybe you'd be home. Guess I was right."

"I'm glad your ok," said Neal, "and I'm sure Peter and El will be glad, too."

"Yeah. Thanks again," she looked around the room, "Oh is that a Neal Caffrey original," she said spotting the pencils and pad on his bed. She stood up and walked to his bedside. Picking up the sketchbook she smiled.

"Wow, it's really good. Who is it?" she asked smiling up at him.

Neal walked over beside her.

"It's a friend of mine. Her name was Kate," he said staring down at the half finished picture.

"Oh, yes I'm sorry. El told me about her. I can't imagine how you must be feeling," she put her hand on his arm and stared empathetically into his eyes. She looked so much like Kate, except her eyes. Kate's eyes were icy blue. Abby had warm brown eyes, like dark chocolate.

Neal moved his other hand to touch hers because he couldn't find the right words to say, an unusual thing for him. She smiled at him, her eyes softening even more.

"How are you?" she said. Neal stared at her quizzically.

"I'm fine, thanks. And you?" he said sarcastically, still puzzled.

"No," she said putting her hand down and holding up the picture, "how _are _you?"

Neal's smile faded. He hadn't really talked about it with anyone since it happened. He didn't want Peter or anyone else he worked with to think he was weak, and Mozzie wasn't the sympathetic type. He wasn't sure how to answer. Two times in one night he was speechless.

"Oh…I don't really know." he said, honestly, letting his guard down. He surely didn't feel good, but he wasn't as bad as he expected. Maybe he's just been pushing his feelings aside.

"Well," said Abby, grabbing the pencils off the bed, "why don't you tell me about her? You can finish drawing as you talk. When my grandfather died, my mother told me to talk about him so that I would always remember him. It's not really the same scenario but I think it could help."

She walked back to the sofa with the pad and pencils and beckoned him. He stared for a moment before sitting down on the other end. He didn't know how to begin but Abby seemed to sense his hesitation.

"Why don't you describe what you draw?" she said encouragingly.

"Well," began Neal choosing a skin colored pencil, "She had really light colored skin. It was always so smooth and her nose was small…and when she was annoyed she used to scratch the top of her nose with her middle finger. I guess it was like a subtle f-you…"

Neal didn't know if it was the right thing to say but it felt good to talk about her, to share the Kate he knew with someone else. He stared up at Abby who was listening intently.

"And her hair was dark, almost black," he said using the brown then black pencils to color her locks. He was feeling relief for the first time since her death. He kept looking up at Abby, using her reassurance to fuel his thoughts.

"Her eyes, they were brown…" he said picking up the pencil, "so brown."

And he froze. In his hand he was the dark brown pencil, the light blue one sitting beside him on the cushion. He stared up at Abby and her wonderful brown eyes.

"Blue," he said quietly, a tear falling from his eye, "her eyes were blue. I don't know why…"

He just looked at Abby. How could he have mistaken Kate's eyes? They were icy grey blue, he knew that. He used to just stare into them, not speaking, and be perfectly content. But now he was staring into Abby's eyes and the pain that he felt was like a bullet. He pushed the pad to the floor and looked away, not wanting her to see. He sobbed silently before he felt a hand on his back and he turned to face Abby, his eyes red with tears. He'd never been this vulnerable with anyone, not even Kate. She wrapped her arms around him and he cried into her shoulder, for the first time letting his emotions take over. He'd tried so hard to repress his sadness but one simple drawing had made his walls break down and the river of grief flow through his weak body. Abby just held him. She didn't saying anything, just rubbed her hand on his back in a soothing way, not embarrassed to have a grown man fall apart in her arms. And he was not embarrassed either. In fact, he felt strangely relieved.

Maybe his was exactly what he needed for the healing to begin.


	4. Chapter 4: A Million Reasons

**Firstly i want to apologize for the wait. I've been helping a friend with her writing and haven't had much time for my own. But here it is, and i sincerly hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading!**

**Chapter Four: A Million Reasons**

Neal strolled down the snow dusted pavement, towards the brightest building on the block. The Fashion Institute of Technology was having a showcase of some of its students' work; the art kids made pictures to put on display, the graphic design kids used fancy technology to create colorful paintings, and the fashion students, like Abby, held a small show to display some of their original designs.

Neal politely walked through the dense cloud of people and made his way to the makeshift catwalk that took up most of the far room. He wasn't surprised that Abby wasn't there; she was probably doing last minute touch-ups before the show began. He wondered around the room, curiously examining a multicolored tiger made solely out of gum wrappers and a sculpture that looked to him like a trashcan. He wasn't the biggest fan of modern art. He preferred the classics.

Neal picked up a pamphlet and after briefly looking through it and spotting Abby's name, put it in his jacket pocket to give to El later. Neither Peter nor Elizabeth were able to attend due to work but Neal had finagled his way out of surveillance so he could come.

Neal was feeling uncharacteristically nervous. He'd been deciding all week on what sort of gift would be appropriate for the setting. He looked down at the roses and small blue gift bag in his hand and half smiled. He wasn't sure Abby would like them but he wanted to get her something special, to thank her for everything she'd done for him over the past few weeks. Without her he'd still be alone and depressed, but since she'd arrived he'd not only found someone to confide in and to comfort him, but he'd found a friend. So what if the present had cost him his entire month's FBI allowance and some extra help from June? He wanted her to understand how grateful he was.

The lights dimmed and Neal walked closed to the show. Multicolored lights bounced around and music blared as the models traced the runway. He paid close attention to hear for Abby's name so he would be sure to take note of each of her outfits.

She had three in the show, all of them stunning in Neal's opinion. A day, work, and evening look. All three classy and well made.

When Abby's collection was finished Neal scanned the crowd. He looked to the other side, close to the entrance of the runway and saw Abby. She was scribbling on a notepad and directing the models where to go. She was wearing a long-sleeved black dress that shimmered in time with the wild lighting. He legs were covered in textured stockings and she wore sophisticated black heels. He watched her lips move as she led the show on and noticed that for the first time she was wearing glasses. They were thick, black, square-ish frames that almost touched the bottom of her perfectly even bangs. Neal admired the way she animatedly talked to the others in the show, she seemed quite confident with herself.

The music ended and the lights turned back to full when the last of the designs had been shown. Neal circled around the stage to meet Abby.

"Oh, Neal you made it!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Of course I did. I promised you, didn't I?" he replied, hugging her back. When the embrace ended he handed her the flowers.

"I didn't know if this was too much, but you deserve them."

"Oh thank you," she said, her eyes lighting up, "roses are my favorite. Oh here Neal, I want you to meet my professor…"

They walked around for a while, Abby introducing Neal to her friends and teachers. When the crowd had died down and it seemed like they had talked to every person there, Neal and Abby left to go to a coffee shop around the corner. On the way there Abby wrapped her hands around Neal's arm as they walked and they talked all about her collection and what seemed like everything else there was to talk about. When they arrived at the café Neal thought it would be a good time to give her the gift.

He put the bag on the table and pushed it towards her, formulating the write thing to say.

"What's this?" she said, smiling up at Neal from under her glasses.

"Well, it's partly a congratulations. Your collection tonight was amazing…and it's also a thank you," he said, reaching across the table to touch her hand with his.

"You've helped me out so much. I don't know where I would be without you. I hope you like them," he said, gesturing to the blue bag.

Abby paused before gently pulling out the contents. She unwrapped the tissue paper and held a small white jewelry box. Inside lay a pair of white gold dangling earrings that shone even in the dim light. Neal saw Abby's eyes grow wide and her hand flew up to her mouth as she gasped.

"Oh, Neal they're stunning," she said, lifting one carefully out of the box and watching the glistening metal twirl in the air. Her fingers gently brushed the soft strands the flowed like leaves.

"I don't know what to say," she breathed, never taking her eyes off the jewelry, "they're really…wow, thank you."

Her eyes moved from the earrings to Neal. For the first time he noticed just how beautiful she was. He stared into her velvety eyes and seemed to lose himself in them. His hand reached out, without his brains permission, and stroked her cheek, still cold from the winter air.

Abby's hands dropped as Neal touched her, the earring falling gently back into the box. She began to speak, but stopped as Neal slowly moved towards her. She suddenly took notice of her own hand that had moved to hold onto Neal's. She shut her eyes and waited for the imminent kiss.

Neal didn't know what he was doing, but he continued to draw nearer, closer and closer until his lips were centimeters from hers and he stopped. There were a million reasons why it was a bad idea. A million and one, actually. But he threw them all to the wind and pressed his lips to hers.

It was a moment of pure whim; blissful and carefree. The noise around them seemed muffled in their ears. Neal's senses dimmed on everything but Abby. His hands moved to keep her close, eagerly twisting in her hair and grasping her arms.

And she was kissing him back, and it was like no other kiss. He was letting go for the first time in what seemed like years. His mind wasn't filled with grief and sadness, but with hope and happiness and blooming lust. He revelled in this moment, a second of harmony, before his thoughts steered him back to reality.

His hands fell limp to the table and his lips stopped their feverish movements. His eyes opened to meet Abby's. Confusion was spreading across her face. They broke apart even as she tried to keep him near.

"I'm sorry," Neal said, hurriedly standing up. Guilt was rising in his chest faster than he could think. His mind was blurred with visions of Kate, of Peter, of Abby. He could barely keep his voice from cracking. "I have to go. I'm glad you like the earrings."

He picked up his jacket and, tossing a few dollars on the table, walked towards the door, away from where his heart told him to be.

"Neal, wait, where are you..." was all he heard before the door fell closed behind him. The chill broke him like a hammer. Tears flowed from his eyes. His body was so mixed with emotions, he felt like sobbing and screaming all at the same time. He was half way down the block when he heard the door jingle open again.

"Please, Neal, wait," he heard Abby call through the frosty air. He ignored her and kept walking. He wanted so badly to turn around and run to her, to hold her close and kiss her again. But he couldn't. His mind was focused on one person. And that person had left him, broken and lost, afraid to ever love again.

**Holy flaming tortillas! Why was it so hard to write a kiss? You'd think it was simple, but no. I wrote it five times over before this. Well, i hope you enjoyed it. Please review and I'll get to work on chapter five. (Crap, now they'll probably have to kiss again. Next time I'm sticking with 'they made out, and it rocked'. I do all the detail for you, my loyal readers.) ;)**


	5. Chapter 5: Peter's Blessing

_Ok, I'll start this out with I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm oh so very very sorry. Its been so long since I posted and I know this chapter is really short its just been so busy and I've been working on my artwork and I know it's no excuse but please don't be mad and…well, enjoy this chapter. _

_Thanks to all my readers and subscribers. Your comments are greatly appreciated._

…_sorry =/ he he…_

**Chapter Five: Peter's Blessing**

Neal Caffrey was experiencing something he hadn't since high school. It was uncomfortable, and out of place. He was Neal; charming and witty. This didn't happen to him. But as the car continued to make its way down the chilled New York City streets it became apparent that this was, indeed, an awkward silence.

Peter was the man driving the car, and the received of Neal's awkwardness. They had tried to start a conversation, but it had gotten lost in translation as Neal's thoughts wandered to Abby. He had done is very best to avoid her since the kiss, and he was exceptionally good at it.

It had been almost two weeks, though t felt more like two years. His friendship with her had brought his old self back out and being without her was like a storm cloud over his head. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since that night. Every time he got a cup of coffee he'd see the one left, untouched on the café table as he stormed out. Every time he got dressed his mind would reel back to the fashion show and he could recall of every detail of what Abby had looked like. The worst was when he was with Peter. He felt as if he'd betrayed his best friend. It was his niece. And he'd kissed her. Worse than that, he'd left her. That was the part he regretted most. More than the forbidden kiss his guilt came from the look on her face as he walked out. It came from the sad pleading in her voice as he walked down the street away from her. He was angry at himself for leaving, and guilty for hurting her, and still distressed about Kate. He felt like a balloon blown up as far as it would go. One more breath and he'd pop.

"Neal."

Peter's voice knocked Neal out of his thoughts.

"What?" he said tearing his eyes away from the blur outside his window, "Sorry. I've just been…thinking about…stuff."

Neal loathed not having the right thing to say. It was unnatural for him.  
"Ok, Neal, enough," Said Peter turning his head towards Neal as pulled into a parking spot in front of the FBI building. Neal looked surprised.

"What do you…?"

"Just stop it Neal," Peter said again. He wasn't angry, just severely annoyed, "I know what happened with Abby. She told me and Elle everything," Neal started to speak, but it seemed he was too shocked to do anything but gape at Peter. So he'd had known this whole time. Neal was surprised he hadn't been shot by Peter's Government Issue firearm.

"Now before you say anything, just hear me out. She is my niece and I care about her very much, but I care about you, too. Sometimes. Sorta," Peter's voice started to trail off.

"Oh, Peter I always knew you cared," said Neal sarcastically. Peter gave him a look.

"What you did…the kiss...," this time it was Peter' turn to be awkward, "ok…you were a jackass for leaving her, even if your still upset about Kate. If that's the case, then you need to call Abby and tell her that. And if you left because you thought I'd kill you if you went any further," Neal smiled innocently, "...well, let' just say the idea crossed my mind. But I'd rather she be involved with someone I know, and literally monitor all day, then a stranger," Peter sighed, "So what I'm saying is, you need to get your act together and figure out what you want. And if that is starting a relationship with my niece…then you have my blessing."

Neal nearly fell over.

"Peter, I…thank you," he said. He never ever thought Peter would be ok with him having feelings for Abby. Cross that one off the list of reason *not* to like her.

"But just remember, Caffrey," said Peter as intimidating as possible, "if you try anything on her, this," he pointed to his gun, "is always loaded, and you know you can't run from me."

With that he opened the door and stepped out. Neal swallowed. Peter could be very scary at times. Very scary. But he stuck his head back in the car, smiling at Neal's fear.

"Now let's go to work, partner."

Neal eased up. At least one of the weights on his shoulder had been lifted off. He got out of the car and headed up to the office, once again thinking of the Abby. But this time he did not think of her with regret or guilt, but with a longing sense to kiss her again. It was the first time in a while all his thoughts were on someone other than Kate.


End file.
